Tuesday, August 3, 2010
The poetry of ....Birth
This past winter in Northern Minnesota a webcam was installed in a the cave of a pregnant black bear Lily, as she birthed her new born calf. the voice of the newborn bear crying taking its first breath sounds just like us when we come through the birth canal and enter the word.This is the first time a birth of a wild black bear was captured on film.I was mesmerized by the sighs of the newborn and the reciprocal cooing of the new mom...poetry
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Spring
ReplyDeleteBy: Mary Oliver
Somewhere
a black bear
has just risen from sleep
and is staring
down the mountain.
All night
in the brisk and shallow restlessness
of early spring
I think of her,
her four black fists
flicking the gravel,
her tongue
like a red fire
touching the grass,
the cold water.
There is only one question:
how to love this world.
I think of her
rising
like a black and leafy ledge
to sharpen her claws against
the silence
of the trees.
Whatever else
my life is
with its poems
and its music
and its glass cities,
it is also this dazzling darkness
coming
down the mountain,
breathing and tasting;
all day I think of her~
her white teeth,
her wordlessness,
her perfect love.